


Anyone for Tennis?

by LateStarter58



Series: Sarah's Smutty Notebook [17]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, Wimbledon Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 20:45:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17066789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: Leo is enjoying a match on Centre Court when she gets a message from an old/new friend.





	Anyone for Tennis?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Phare, Phare Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17066627) by [LateStarter58](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58). 



> Inspired by the Wimbledon pictures of 2015 (me and many other more talented writers). I had been planning a reunion for Tom and OFC Leo from Phare, Far Away, and once I saw one particular picture, well, it just had to happen…

**_< Good afternoon beautiful>_ **

I’ve given up arguing. He just ignores my protests.

**< Hello, handsome>**

This is a fairly typical opening exchange. Yes, Tom and I have kept in touch. I didn’t expect to hear from him again, after our lovely interlude in the chill of a Breton February. But he has been messaging and emailing me from time to time since.

I looked around Centre Court. It was bustling with people chatting, stretching, eating; others were leaving or finding their seats. The air was filled hum of happy people in an iconic arena. It had lost the other-worldly atmosphere it had when the roof was closed after it started to rain on the Murray match, and warm July sunshine was cascading in. I reached for my sun cream and renewed the coverage on my arms and face. My phone vibrated against my lap a second time.

**_< You’ve cut your hair. It looks great>_ **

I stared at my phone. _No, we are not on FaceTime._

**_< Enjoying the match?>_ **

Now I was really confused. I had not told him I was going to be at Wimbledon. The ticket was a late birthday gift from my oldest friend, Mich. We used to go together every year before I moved to France. She was supposed to come with me this time, but her son’s graduation from uni was scheduled for the same day so she had a reasonable excuse to stand me up.

**<?>**

**_< I am looking at you RIGHT NOW>_ **

**<????>**

**_< Look opposite you. Up about three rows. Woman in bright blue hat directly below me>_ **

And sure enough, there he was in all his glory: a blue three-piece, fitting like a glove; and a stripy blue and white shirt that Magnus would have loved.  He removed his straw hat, and I saw Jonathan Pine personified: his hair blond again, and ladies, he looks even better in the flesh than those pics from Mallorca… And OMFG he was smiling his sweet, shy smile. At me.

**_< You with friends?>_ **

**< Nope. Just me>**

Which is how, once the next set was over and we could get out of our seats, I came to be in the middle of one of those big squeezy HiddlestonhugsTM. Using that infamous charm of his, he had wangled me a pass for the hospitality suite he was in, so within minutes I was treading on fake grass, sipping the best champagne and nibbling on fancy grub with the VIPs.  

We kept it discreet and chatted idly, the two of us, about this and that. I pumped him for info about Hugh Laurie (a long-term crush of mine. _Not in the Hiddles league, of course_ , but I have always liked him), and he confirmed my belief that HL is a total babe. My news was somewhat less exciting. I had been on a short trip to Spain, but otherwise it was mainly the books I had read and how the dogs are getting on. Nonetheless, he seemed interested, although the way he kept looking at me suggested there might be other things on his mind. After an hour or so of eyefucks, which had been making me rather hot and bothered, he leaned in to whisper a more ‘private’ question.

‘Where are you staying?’

‘I’ve got a hotel in Paddington.’

‘For how long?’

‘Just tonight, then I am off to Surrey to see my brother.’ I looked him in the eye. ‘Why?’

He smiled and looks down shyly. _God, what a charming fucker_. ‘I’m off to San Diego tomorrow.’

_Ah yes, of course._

‘Stay with me tonight?’

Well, how could I refuse such a lovely offer?

If nothing else, it was a relief to get a lift into town: there was a Tube strike and I was wondering how I would get there. We went via my hotel; _Ralph Lauren_ had kindly provided him with a car and driver. I don’t know what I was expecting from his house but I loved the place the minute I saw it. I had seen it in the background of pictures, of course, like the rest of us, and we had done the odd video call, but more often when he was away. It was not a huge or even slightly ostentatious place; secluded, in a charming neighbourhood, and full to the brim with books… It’s so _him_. And once the door was shut, once it was just the two of us he wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled my hair. He took a deep breath.

‘Oh Leo. It’s so good to hold you again.’

I reached up and caressed his neck, then ran my fingers through the curls on the top of his head; so soft and bouncy. I felt his lips on my temple and my eyes closed to relish all the sensations, which were travelling directly from the skin there to my core.

‘I can’t tell you how fabulous it feels, Tom.’

His mouth moved down, brushing lightly over my cheek, teasing the corner of my mouth and down, down, past my jaw to my neck. I gasped as his hot breath washed over me, and I felt his hands drifting up under my thin blouse. If I had doubted that he would want me as much, away from the unique and isolated atmosphere of the gîte **,** the lighthouse and the Brittany coast, then I was being proven gloriously wrong. I could tell. It’s pretty hard to miss in his case.

‘In a hurry, are you?’

‘We’ve only got one night, darling. No time to waste.’

‘True.’

I shoved his beautiful bespoke jacket off his broad shoulders and threw it across his sitting room to land haphazardly on a chair, and began to unbutton his waistcoat. My blouse had approximately a hundred tiny buttons and I could tell he was getting irritated so I just pulled it off over my head. He pushed me back onto the sofa and fell on my boobs like a starving man. After a couple of minutes he came up for air.

‘You’ve lost weight.’ His hands were resting on my waist, squeezing gently, just enough not to tickle.

I smiled. ‘You remember me that well?’ He was right: I had lost a stone since our sojourn together. Somehow I had found the motivation that I had been lacking previously.

His mouth was next to my ear and his words sent all kinds of shivers and tingles right through my body. ‘Oh yes, Leo. I think of you often.’ He chuckled darkly. ‘Eheheheh. Especially when the lights go out.’

I ran my hands over his defined chest and those arms. ‘You, on the other hand, appear to have put _on_ some weight. Of the right kind, I mean.’ I kissed his eyelids and he sighed as my tongue teased the delicate flesh.

‘Have to look the part, darling.’

‘ _Have to drive the fangirls into a frenzy_ , you mean.’

‘Eheheheheh. That’s enough talking for now.’

He stopped my response dead in its tracks by the simple but highly effective tactic of yanking down my cropped jeans and panties. I closed my eyes, knowing what would follow. I bent the knee nearest the back of the sofa as I felt his breath on my belly. He hummed in satisfaction then the warm heat of his tongue was there.

I had thought my memories of our nights together were crystal-clear, and that I could never forget the heights of ecstasy he had lifted me to, but I was mistaken. No recollection, however vivid, could do justice to it. His hands on my breasts, stroking, teasing, pinching. The sound of moaning – mine and his – and of his mouth on my soaking quim. The smell of him: cologne, soap, sweat, champagne, sex. But the pleasure, oh dear god, the sensations! He remembered me, alright. He knew what drove me wild, and did it until I was on the edge of madness. He had to hold me down, digging his fingers into the skin on my hips to stop me from writhing and twisting off the couch. And then the keening began.

‘Shshshsh! You’ll frighten the horses!’

I didn’t stop until he relented and let me come. Oh dear god, I could not breathe for what felt like twenty minutes. When my brain was able to function on a higher level again, I opened my eyes to see an Oakley-style grin shining down on me.

‘Good?’

Apparently I was still incapable of speech, so I just swiped at him, but he dodged my clumsy attempt easily by standing up and stripping off. I remained incoherent at that sight, let me tell you. I mean… FUCK. We are all in for a very warm Spring, ladies.

As he said, he was of the opinion we had no time to waste, so he didn’t hang around. He sat down next to where I was sprawled in my usual graceful fashion (you try to look glamorous and graceful after an orgasm like that, I dare you). I gathered my wits enough to crawl onto him and I reacquainted myself with what I had nicknamed in February ‘the sword of Corioles’.

_Oh hello again. Oh yessssss._

Like I said: _as advertised_.

Tom seemed preoccupied with watching Little Tommy going in and out like a fiddler’s elbow, so I enjoyed the view of his face.

_Tall and tan and young and lovely…_

In the winter he had been beautiful: pale and clear-eyed, his freckles standing out on his Scottish complexion, the Westerly wind making his cheeks ruddy and shiny. Now he looked like Oakley grown-up. Sexy as hell, a golden-skinned Greek god. I felt tears welling up. He was too much, sensory overload, the most gorgeous man on the planet and here I am, bouncing up and down on his cock. _The cock of dreams…_

‘What is it, Leo? Are you OK, darling?’

I nodded and reached out to stroke his unfairly attractive face. He smiled and I felt a tear overflow and trickle down my cheek. He kissed it away, then his lips pressed against mine and I opened my mouth to his exploring tongue as he began to thrust up into me once more. I closed my eyes to concentrate on the coil that was tightening again inside my pelvis. I lifted myself up on my knees as he began to speed up, until finally he needed more and turned me over and entered me from behind. I grabbed the arm of the sofa and held on as he put all that new muscle to wonderful use. After I had screamed his name yet again, I felt his thrusts become ragged and then he buried himself in as deep as he could, his body draping over mine as he emptied into me. Kisses were pressed into my back as I reached behind and squeezed that shapely arse – you know the one, the one that made us all have a _Crimson Peak_ meltdown a few weeks ago.

We stayed like that for a while, just until our breathing returned to normal. He slipped out and strode off returning seconds later with a robe for me and a pair of joggers for himself.

‘I’m starving! Fancy something?’

Now he mentioned it, I was hungry, so Tom went to the kitchen and returned with a sheaf of take-away leaflets. I was rather overwhelmed by the choice: where I live it’s pizza, kebabs or the Brit-owned fish-and-chip-shop; in his neighbourhood we could choose from just about every cuisine you can think of…

‘This looks nice.’ I was reading the menu for a Japanese restaurant. I can actually get sushi near me, but not delivered, and I adore Japanese food.

‘Ideal. That place is just a few doors away, and they know me. I’ll just ring them.’

We sat on the sofa while we waited, drinking some nice beer he had in the fridge. Actually, that was more or less all there was in there; he was leaving in the morning, after all. I lifted my legs up and he grabbed my feet, putting them into his lap and massaging them. It was blissful, after a day of Tube travel and standing around at Wimbledon, but I couldn’t resist teasing him. I mean, it was so close…

The buzzer went and he had to answer the door in just joggers… with a semi… _oops_.

‘Well that wasn’t at all embarrassing!’

‘Oh shut up! You said they know you. I’m sure that’s not the first time you’ve done that.’

This time it was me dodging the blow.

*****

I opened my eyes a crack. The sun was shining already.

_Bugger_

I turned over and was met by the most beautiful sight: the Hiddles in full bed-head regalia. Stunning. My heart sank a little to think we would be parting shortly, but such is life. And the seven or eight orgasms I’d had in the last twelve hours were softening the blow. Especially as the entire thing had been such a lovely surprise.

I had to kiss him. It needed to be done. A girl’s gotta do…

‘G’morning’

A hand was already on a boob. He doesn’t believe in wasting time, as you know.

‘Wha’ time is it?’

I turned to look at the clock, only to find myself enveloped in two long, strong arms and a hard cock slipping between my legs and along my folds. I wriggled against him and got a low dark moan for my pains. ‘It’s alright, it’s only quarter to seven.’

‘Good.’

The hands of heaven closed on my hips and pulled me harder to his body. I reached behind and grabbed a handful of curls while I stretched and pressed myself backwards. Then I felt him turning my body and I was presented with a face so full of lust it nearly made me come just to look at it.

‘Come here, darling.’

‘Not going anywhere, sexy.’

By this time I was more than a bit sore, but WTF, I mean, carpe diem, right?

After I had received another good seeing to, we lay and gazed at each other.

‘This has been an entirely unexpected and equally welcome pleasure, Leo my darling. Thank you so much for a wonderful time.’

I looked at him steadily. ‘You really have no idea, do you?’ He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Or do you, you fucker?’

A wounded, innocent expression lit up his handsome features. ‘Moi? Idea about what?’

I sighed heavily. ‘Those pictures from the set of _Night Manager._ People went apeshit. The bike; the leather jacket. You.’

He smiled that sweet, modest, _who, me?_ smile of his.

‘I looked at Tumblr last night when you were in the bathroom. Pics from yesterday are actively killing people as we speak, I have no doubt.’ I looked at him. He was half-smiling, but I could see he felt a bit uncomfortable. ‘My darling boy, you have so much power. These people love you. LOVE. YOU.’ I prodded him in his firm, bronzed, stupid-fucking-perfect chest. ‘And you know why?’

He looked down, shaking his head. ‘Not really. I’m nothing special.’

I threw up my hands in exasperation. ‘For FUCK’S SAKE! Because you are EXTREMELY special. That’s the point. Because you are YOU, and they love EVERYTHING about you. Not just your face and body – although those would be enough for most people, god knows – but you. YOU.’ I paused, trying to put it into words. ‘You are exactly as you appear. You are well read and brainy, which is a MASSIVE turn-on, by the way. You are sincere, you ARE kind and compassionate. And, incidentally, you ARE the best actor of your generation, as the Academy are going to admit in March, we all hope.’ He started to say something but I stopped him with my mouth. I relished the taste of him; stored it in my memory bank.

‘AND you are as sexy a man as any on the fucking planet.’ He laughed. I kept looking at him sternly. ‘Listen you. Enjoy it. You deserve your popularity. I only wish that all of the fans I know could share a bit of this.’ I gestured to the bed, and him. ‘But then, if you did us all, you’d have no time to make movies, and that would be a shame.’

**_OK, OK, stop shouting the lot of you. No, there isn’t a line and no, I can’t put your name on a list. I wish I could, my dearest friends, but I can’t._ **

**_I WON’T._ **

He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Are they all like you, Leo?’

‘Some are. Quite a few, actually, if by that you mean a little older, wiser, funnier than average.’

‘I meant all that, plus sexier and more beautiful.’

‘Well, yes, that too.’ I grinned. Then it occurred to me what he was suggesting. Or teasing me with, anyway. “NO. I’m NOT sharing!’

He shook his head again, this time sadly, as a rebuke. ‘That’s not very sporting of you, Leo.’

‘Yeah, well, FUCK SPORT.’

‘Except tennis?’

‘Yeah. That’s OK.’

*****

We parted mid-morning. He had a flight to catch, I had a train… It had been lovely and amazing and all the better for being so unexpected. I couldn’t sit comfortably for a few days, but I don’t think my family noticed. Although my sister-in-law did remark that seemed chirpier than I had been for a while.

_Yeah, well. That’s the Hiddleseffect TM. _

Still not sharing.


End file.
